


Impression

by whiteroses77



Series: Impressionists [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hostage Situations, Identity Porn, Jealousy, M/M, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-04 16:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18608398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne have been hiding certain feelings for each other, but it’s not until one evening inside the Daily Planet building that gives them the chance to see they have had the wrong impression about each other.





	1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Impression 1  
PAIRING: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 3,014  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne have been hiding certain feelings for each other, but it’s not until one evening inside the Daily Planet building that gives them the chance to see they have had the wrong impression about each other.

~B~

He parked his car in the underground garage, and then made his way up to the office. Passing the bullpen, he got a flavour of what being the focus of Perry White’s ornery wrath was like as he bawled out an underling about the deadline. 

He knew he could never have a job where another person had the right to tell him off like a naughty schoolboy. Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about things like that. He continued on and up the stairs. 

As he arrived at his destination and opened the door, one set of eyes glanced up at him from behind black framed lenses. And from the other side of the double desk, the other continued focusing on the computer screen, as she stabbed away at the keyboard like it was her nemesis and not her weapon of choice.

The eyes that were focused on him, smiled at him. Then with warmth, he was asked, “Hello, what are you doing in Metropolis on a Friday evening?”

With a fond half smile, Bruce revealed, “I happened to be in town for a meet and greet this afternoon, and I thought I’d come by and ask the best reporter in the city to have dinner with me.”

Clark blinked slowly. He was just about to speak, when still looking at her screen, the feisty brunette replied, “Great. Where’re you taking me?”

Bruce chuckled softly, and walked around and took a seat on the edge of her side of the double desk. He took her hand away from the keyboard, and kissed it. He said huskily, “Anywhere you’d like my darling, just name it.”

Lois glanced up, and her eyes sparkled with delight, “You are a smooth talker, Mr Wayne.”

He chuckled again, and then he glanced behind him, and met his friend’s gaze. There he saw a look on Clark’s face that he didn’t recognise, a bit of surprise, a dash of tension, and then a smile forced to his friend’s full lips. Their gazes locked as Bruce tried to decipher the look that he’d caught and what it meant. 

By the time, Clark broke away and looked back at his own screen; Bruce still hadn’t figured it out. He decided it didn’t matter and that he’d figure it out later, if he thought of it again. He stood up, and he walked around the double desk. Then he leaned in over his friend’s shoulder to look at the screen. “What are you working on?”

He sensed tension in his friend’s frame, he didn’t know why and as he glanced above the screen, he saw Lois was watching. At the appraisal, Bruce breathed through his nose, and his senses tingled as they were flooded with the warm spiciness that he always enjoyed when he was this close to his friend. Then Clark turned his head, and his breath wafted over Bruce’s cheek, and he felt drawn to the sweet breeze, and he turned, and their eyes met so close and lingered on each other. 

Bruce licked his lips and murmured, “Are you ready, Clark?”

Clark’s nostrils flared and he whispered, “For what?”

Feeling suddenly twitchy, he broke away and took a step back; he cleared his throat, and then said, “To go to dinner, of course.”

His friend swallowed hard, “Of course.” and then said, “Five more minutes and I’ll be right with you.”

He nodded along, and then turned and he saw Lois was still watching, keenly observant. He subtly shook himself out, and then went to stand by the window, and watched the city life below as he waited for his friend to be ready. It was just past rush hour, and most people were already on their way home for the weekend. The cross section below was sparsely populated. Only the workaholics and the people with a cause were still in their offices at this time.

Abruptly, Clark stood up from his desk, and announced, “I’ve got to go.”

Within the safety of his friends’ presence, he blurred out of sight.

Amused, Bruce walked over to the desk, and sat down in the vacated seat. With blasé, he said, “I do hope he’s back in time to go to the restaurant.”

Lois revealed, “Could be anything from ten seconds to tomorrow morning.”

He noticed Clark’s black framed glasses had been left on his desk. He reached out and slipped them on to his own face. Lois smirked and bit her lip. Bruce smiled, and offered wryly, “How about you, Ms Lane?”

“How about me, what?” she wondered.

“Dinner…?”

The gorgeous reporter mused, “I really don’t think you’d want me there cramping your style.”

Bruce frowned, “What’s that supposed to mean…?”

He didn’t get an answer, as the lights in the building blinked off and then a back-up generator brought emergency lighting on. Then a shimmering light seemed to cascade over the building before disappearing. Bruce was on alert, and Lois met his gaze wide-eyed. 

A few seconds later, the office door slammed open, and Perry White, Jimmy Olsen and a couple other people that he presumed were reporters were herded into the office by a man with a gun. The guy jeered, “Get in there.”

Perry griped, “You’re making a big mistake, honcho.”

The man was average height and build; he had a nondescript face but he pointed his gun and ordered, “You lot sit down.”

Perry and Jimmy and the others found seats on the black couch along the wall, and on a chair.

Then the guy glanced between Lois and Bruce, and demanded, “Where the hell is he?”

Lois questioned, “Where who is?”

Irately, the man shouted, “Superman, who the hell did you think I meant.”

She said sarcastically, “Does it look like he’s here?”

The guy sneered, “The spell I bought, they said it would locate who I wanted it to. It said he was here in this building, here in this office.” The man glanced at Bruce and then he accused, “Unless you’re him in disguise.” He glanced at the nameplate on the desk, “Kent.”

Bruce’s frame tightened, the last thing Clark needed was somebody stumbling onto his secret identity. He caught Lois’s eye, and then she subtly motioned to the glasses he was still wearing. He understood. He had confidence in his own skill and so he thought of his friend, and then he swallowed hard, took a breath, and adjusted the black framed glasses and then he chuckled nervously, “Gosh, I’m not the man of steel.”

From the couch, Jimmy said, “He’s not even C…”

An elbow in the ribs from Perry White cut off Jimmy’s declaration. Jimmy glared at his boss and then closed his mouth contritely. 

The gunman pointed the handgun at Bruce, “Stand up.”

He widened his eyes in mock worry, and he stood up. The guy pointedly sized him up. “You’re tall enough, you’ve got dark hair, and you look built too…”

Bruce laughed nervously, “What… you think I’ve got a Superman suit under my clothes or something.”

The man glared at the underlying mockery in his tone, and then said, “Yeah, maybe, show me.”

He took a breath and unbuttoned a couple of buttons; he opened his shirt and showed him bare skin. Seeing the evidence, the man sneered, “Sit back down, Kent.”

Remembering his persona, he went to fasten his buttons at the same time that he returned to the chair, and then he stumbled clumsily and fell against the desk. The guy rolled his eyes, “Get up and get back in that chair.”

As Bruce seated himself, Perry asked the madman, “What in tarnation is it that you want?”

“I want that son of a bitch to pay for what he did.” the man revealed.

Lois defended, “Whatever you think he did…”

The mad man cut her off by waving his gun about, “Of course you’d defend him, I knew he’d be here because everyone knows you’re fucking him!” 

Bruce watched on, waiting for an opportunity. It was a strange situation that he found himself in, as Bruce Wayne he couldn’t stand up to a gun toting maniac, and now to protect his friend’s secret identity, he couldn’t stand up to him as Clark Kent. He saw it on Lois’s face that she would take a lunge at the guy herself to protect her friends if she had the chance. She was quite a woman.

He caught her gaze and shook his head subtly. 

Then Perry spoke, “You can see that Superman isn’t here, we’re just reporters just trying to finish our job, so we can go home tonight.”

Sweat broke out on the man’s forehead, as he raved, “Doing your job, doing your job, you don’t do your job; you don’t tell the world about all the people that he chooses not to save.”

Bruce cleared his throat, seeing a way to get a message out. “Superman can’t be everywhere at once. R…right now, he’s out there saving lives, and that means that here at the Daily Planet…” he swallowed hard for effect. “…here in this office, he can’t be here to save us from a man with a gun.”

Lois nodded along, and added, “Don’t you think if I was fucking Superman that he’d be here right now melting that gun of yours into contemporary art.”

He saw the man hesitate; their words maybe making him question his actions. He mumbled, “It’s not my gun, I don’t own a gun.” Then he shook his head, “No, no you’re just trying to mess with my mind.”

From across the room, Jimmy muttered, “It seems like a wreck already.”

Perry snapped, “Shush Jimmy.”

The hostage taker’s eyes widened, and nodded thoughtfully, “Jimmy, James Olsen, you’re the one who takes all the photographs, you’re up his ass as much as she is.” He smiled manically, “This is good. The bitch that writes the bullshit, the guy who takes the publicity shots and the big man that prints it all. He’s going to know what it feels like to see the people closest to him die.”

One of the other reporters that Bruce didn’t recognise said quietly, “I hardly even know Superman.”

The woman sat next to him grumbled, “The same here, Ron. I guess the guy hasn’t heard of all of his pals in the Justice League.”

Lois cringed, “Shut up, Lucy.”

Bruce studied the young woman and recognised the resemblance to her sister, and internally, Bruce agreed with the younger Lane, going after the members of the League would take more than a locater spell and a gun.

The guy didn’t seem to have much of a plan, yet the man had chosen the best time, nobody about, nobody to stumble on what was going down, and no reason for the police to be called to the scene.

~*~

Ten minutes later, they were all sitting in the same positions and everyone was silent. The waiting around was making the man with the gun even more edgy. Finally, he sneered at everyone, “I guess he doesn’t care about you.”

“I care about everyone, even you, Mr Harrison.”

Everyone gasped, and looked to the doorway, and saw the red cape wearing figure standing there. Superman stepped into the office and his gaze travelled the room, checking to make sure everyone was okay and finally his gaze came to rest on Bruce. For a second, his gaze found Bruce’s open shirt before he looked away quickly. 

Consciously, Bruce adjusted the black framed glasses that he was still wearing. 

The gun man frowned at Superman and asked, “You know who I am?”

Superman nodded and said solemnly, “Yes, three weeks ago, your wife Sarah had a heart attack behind the steering wheel of her car. Bravely, she avoided the other cars and she managed to pull up on the side of the road. She died there.”

Tears came to the man’s eyes, and he accused, “You knew and you didn’t help her!”

With emotion, Superman’s jaw tensed, as he revealed, “I was responding to a teenager drowning in Hobbs Bay.”

“And he was more important than my wife?” asked the grief stricken husband.

Bruce watched as his friend blinked and swallowed hard, before replying honestly, “The kid was louder, your wife died very quietly.”

Everyone in the office was obviously affected by the simple truth. He could tell Clark was trying not to look at anyone, ashamed for something that he couldn’t control. Harrison looked pained, and then suddenly, the gun was pointing at Lois’s temple. Harrison demanded, “You want your woman to die quietly, or do you want her to scream for you at the top of lungs to save her.”

Lucy demanded, “Leave her alone!”

When Superman didn’t make a move, Jimmy beseeched, “Superman, do something.”

The hero shook his head, and said stoically, “I can’t Jimmy, the building’s been enchanted so I can’t use my powers.”

“Oh.” Jimmy whispered.

Bruce realised why it had taken Clark so long to get here. He’d tried to find a way to rescue them without touching the building or coming inside, and then when that failed; he’d willingly entered this hostage situation knowing he was going to be powerless. As far as Bruce was concerned it was stupidly courageous. He shook his head minutely, and Clark caught him and winced in response to the silent reprimand.

At the revelation, that she had a gun at her head and Clark couldn’t save her, Lois’s body began trembling uncontrollably, but she gritted her teeth and breathed deeply trying to stay in control. 

Nervously, Superman warned the man, “Killing Lois isn’t going to get you the vengeance that you think I deserve.”

Harrison spat, “I think it is, look at you, you’re scared for the woman you love, and you should be.”

Superman admitted, “She’s not my woman, she’s…”

“Everyone knows she’s your girl.” he sneered.

Wanting to help his friend, Bruce lied, “No, she’s mine.” Everyone’s gaze darted to him and Bruce pushed the glasses up his nose.

The hostage taker shook his head in denial, “No way, why would she choose you over him.”

Taking his cue, Lois breathed raggedly, “Because Clark’s a good man, and he’s normal and he can put me before the rest of the world.”

Agitatedly, Harrison pulled the gun away and Bruce mouthed to Lois, “Move.”

She jumped up and she raced around the desk, and threw herself towards Bruce. He grabbed her and pulled her into his embrace. He rubbed her back comfortingly. “Hush baby, it’s alright.”

The man with the gun paced the office, he muttered, “It doesn’t make sense.”

Bruce spoke up, “T...this is our office, and we work together every day w…we fell in love. What more do you need to know?”

Harrison glanced at Superman and saw the worried look on his face, and he declared, “I think you’re playing me. I don’t think you’re really together.”

He said, “I don’t care what you think.” Then he leaned in and he kissed Lois Lane.

Her breaths were still shaky but she kissed him back, once, twice, and then they both deepened the kiss. Despite the precarious situation or because of it, it was good, and a moan escaped him. Around them, they heard sounds of quiet surprise. When the kiss ended, Lois laid her head on his shoulder, and Bruce’s gaze found Superman’s.

He thought he’d see relief, relief that Bruce was protecting his close friend, but the look he received was an echo of the unreadable look from earlier except there was no forced smile accompanying this one. As Superman turned away, Harrison sneered, “Looks like someone’s jealous.”

At the man’s words, Bruce’s eyes widened behind the lenses of the black framed glasses. Was that the look that he couldn’t decipher, was it jealousy? He remembered that he had been flirting with Lois the first time he’d seen that look on Clark’s face. Was Clark jealous? Was Clark pissed off that his best friends were flirting with each other? Had he pushed a boundary, because you didn’t kiss your best friend’s love interest?

Superman snorted softly, “Not at all, I’m happy for Clark and Lois.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” the man jeered.

Then Lois lifted her head away from Bruce’s shoulder and turned to face Harrison. She said croakily, “Well you should, he’s not in love with me; he loves someone else. Someone your gun and your spell won’t work against.”

In the corner, Jimmy murmured, “I bet it’s Wonder Woman.”

Ron, the man sitting next to Lucy replied, “The spell would stop her powers too.”

Harrison turned to Superman and he demanded, “You don’t love her, but you do love someone, someone I can take away from you like you took away my wife.”

Superman tensed his jaw, and wouldn’t answer. Then Harrison pointed the gun again, but this time threatening the man that Harrison thought Lois loved. He pointed it at Bruce and demanded of Lois, “Who is it?”

Though he didn’t relish a gun pointing at him, Bruce was both surprised and intrigued by the news. If it wasn’t Lois, Clark hadn’t confided in him anything about anyone else. He focused on Superman, and he saw the hero was staring at Lois, and shaking his head mutely, his eyes pleading with her not to reveal what she knew. 

Lois took a breath, “I’m sorry.” she said to Superman, and she revealed, “He’s in love with Batman.”

The others in the room gasped at the revelation, and Bruce’s heart stopped for a second. With wonder, he caught Superman’s gaze for a searching moment. Obviously feeling awkward, Superman slowly closed his eyes and bowed his head.

 

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Impression 2  
PAIRING: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,634  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: The hostage situation continues as Bruce comes to terms with the revelation.

~B~

Seeing his friend’s reaction, and in it recognising the truth of Lois’ words, Bruce was shaken. Yet he was trapped by the situation, trapped by his own performance as Clark Kent, trapped by the eager eyes of Clark’s co-workers and the man with the gun. 

The gun which was still pointing straight towards Bruce. 

If only Harrison knew that the man that he wanted to kill before Superman’s eyes was sitting right there, the trigger would be pulled and Superman wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop it. The man would get what he wanted; he’d get to kill the person that Superman loved.

Bruce took a startled breath just at thinking that remarkable thought.

His gaze lingered on Superman until his friend unbowed his head and met his gaze. Bruce’s eyes searched Clark’s, his eyes spoke to him, and there was embarrassment, acceptance and a touch of fear in them. They were jerked out of their silent conversation by Harrison demanding, “Is it true, the person you love is Batman?”

Superman met the man’s gaze, and said stoically, “You see, hurting anyone in this room isn’t going to get you what you want, so you might as well let them go.”

Harrison shook his head, “Maybe I should keep everyone here until your… boy… gets here.”

Internally, Bruce bristled at the term ‘boy’.

Superman replied, “He’s not going to come, he wouldn’t walk in here and give himself up.”

The gunman leered, “You did it for them, for people that you know. What would he do for you huh?”

“As I was saying, he’s not that stupid.” Superman replied.

Harrison snorted, understanding the implication that Superman was confessing, that he’d been stupid to walk in here. It was stupid and it was brave, and Batman wouldn’t expect anything less of his teammate. 

Bruce uttered, “Maybe he would for a trade, if you released the hostages. If the gun was pointing at Superman’s head alone, then he’d come for him.”

In awe of the suggestion, Superman’s eyes widened. 

Harrison narrowed his gaze at who he thought was Clark Kent, and said, “He just said he wouldn’t come for him, and he knows him better than you do.”

Bruce swallowed hard, and his arms tightened around Lois purposely, “I just know that I would walk in here for the person I love.” He turned and made eye contact with Clark, “Maybe Superman doesn’t realise how much he means to Batman.”

He saw Superman’s chest heave at his words, and now it was Clark’s eyes that were questioning, searching his for answers. During their silent conversation, Harrison lowered the weapon and paced again. 

Then suddenly, there was a commotion, and Superman and Bruce’s eyes found that Jimmy had lunged and tackled Harrison, and then Lucy was scrambling on the floor for the gun. She got it out of Harrison’s reach. Then Ron was removing his belt, and offering it Jimmy to use as restraints. 

Jimmy said, “Thanks Ron.”

Then Perry was getting on the phone and calling the Metropolis PD. 

Superman and Bruce’s gaze met again but this time with incredulousness. 

The superheroes had been saved by the little guys.

~*~

They waited for the police to come, Jimmy, Lucy and Ron all took their seats again, and Lois wiggled out Bruce’s embrace and returned to her own chair. There was a strange atmosphere in the air. Harrison was tied up but conscious so Bruce stayed in character, and there was a mutual but mute consensus that everyone went along with it. Then Perry noticed Jimmy’s hands were shaking and he reached out and caught them and held them tight.

Superman said encouragingly, “You did great, Jimmy.” He glanced at Lucy and Ron, “And both of you as well. Thank you.”

Jimmy grimaced out a smile, “Thanks, Superman.”

Lois asked Superman, “I guess it’s strange to have to hang around and not just fly off.”

Superman folded his arms across his chest, and admitted, “That’s not the only strange thing about tonight.”

Ron asked the room but mainly Perry and Superman, “So are we going to report the whole story, I mean the thing about Batman too?”

Lucy snorted, “That was just to throw the guy off track, right?”

Gazes darted about the room, and when nobody agreed to her assessments, she swallowed, “Oh right.”

Then Perry said with authority, “This newspaper doesn’t print unestablished tittle-tattle, especially about someone who is a friend to everyone at the Daily Planet.”

Ron and Jimmy replied dutifully, “Yes, Chief.”

However, Lois had to urge, “Right, Lucy?”

Lois’ sister rolled her eyes, “All right.”

Bruce had been following the conversation, but when he turned and looked towards his friend, he found Superman was already looking his way. Wanting to speak privately, he suggested, “I’ll go and get everyone some coffee while we wait for the police to show up.”

He stood up, and he adjusted the black framed glasses, and then he said, “Superman, do you want to help me?”

Superman’s eyes keenly swept the room, and then he nodded, “Okay.”

Then they headed out the office. In the hallway, Superman was the one who had to show him where to get the coffee from. He followed him, along the hall, and down some stairs, and around a corner into the break room that had a small kitchenette. He watched as Superman busied himself and got five paper cups ready; he noticed that he hadn’t got one for him or himself. 

There was mute tension in the small room.

Bruce uttered, “Can you stop doing that?”

Superman shook his head, “You don’t know how everyone has their coffee.”

“I meant can you just give us a minute.” he insisted.

His friend stopped prepping the cups but he didn’t turn around. Bruce took a breath, he thought he knew but he needed it confirming and asked, “What Lois said, is it true?” He saw Superman’s frame stiffen. He urged, “Do you love me, are you in love with me?”

His friend said quietly, “Just leave it, Bruce.”

Tension rippled through Bruce’s jaw, “I can’t, Clark I need to know the truth.”

Clark’s voice was shaky as he said, “You never needed to know before.”

He shook his head incredulously, “What the hell is that supposed to mean, you’re my best friend; I need to know if you’re in love with me.”

Superman turned around, and faced him, annoyance sparking in his eyes, “Would knowing for sure stop you from flirting with Lois right in front of me, from kissing her?”

The jealous accusation was a shock, and he answered truthfully, “Yes. Damn it yes.” 

His friend shook his head disbelievingly at his reply. Bruce inhaled and exhaled, “Are you in love with me?”

Superman swallowed hard and then said quietly, “I do care about you so much, Bruce…” 

“As I do you.” Bruce nodded along.

His friend locked gazes with him, and confessed roughly, “…and I want you.”

Fear quivered inside him at that simple but overpowering statement and something he didn’t understand signalled his body into motion, and he stepped forward and inertia closed the gap, and then his lips were a breath away from Superman’s. He could feel that sweet breath in his mouth, as Superman whispered, “Don’t.”

Bruce didn’t listen, he covered his friend’s lips with his own, and he played his own lips against plush but unmoving lips. Just the feel of it was tantalizing, and he moaned. He felt he could do this all night but he wanted more and he pulled back enough to say, “Kiss me.”

He resumed the kiss, but again Clark let himself be kissed but he didn’t respond apart from opening his mouth and letting Bruce’s tongue inside. Needful, Bruce panted against his lips, “Why won’t you kiss me?”

With moist lips, his friend told him “Because I don’t think you really want what you’re initiating here.”

“What I’m initiating is mutual pleasure.” He said huskily.

“Just because you found out you can.”

Being this close to his friend after all this time, was intoxicating, and felt so naughty and Bruce wanted more of it, he panted softly, “Because I want your mouth.” 

Superman’s lips danced in front of Bruce’s teasingly, though his eyes were serious as he warned, “I want more from you than a kiss, Bruce.”

Bruce laughed softly, “You sound like you’re trying to scare me. I’m not scared. You make me feel a lot of things, Mr Kent but scared isn’t one of them.” then cheekily, he adjusted the black framed glasses on his face.

His friend’s brow furrowed, and then murmured, “You…”

He didn’t finish the sentence because Clark’s hands caught his head, his fingers threaded through Bruce’s hair and then he took Bruce’s mouth with his. Bruce was caught in a whirlwind of passion. Clark’s lips ravished his, and his tongue explored his mouth hungrily. He’d never felt passion like it, and he responded to it with equal measure taking mouthfuls of pleasure. 

Their bodies struggled against each other’s sinuously. They echoed each other with moans and gasps. Bruce’s hands grasped at his red caped covered back, and then under the cape, and grasped his ass. Suddenly, he found himself pushed back against the wall and Superman’s strong hands stroked his body, and then one found Bruce’s crotch and massaged it through his wool pants with intent.

Bruce whimpered, “Shit, Clark.” and bucked into that palm. 

Clark groaned into his mouth, “I want you, Bruce.”

He pushed himself away from the wall, and then turned them and pressed Superman against the wall and replied, “I know.” Then he palmed his friend’s crotch.

Their tongues danced wildly. Then they moved again, and Bruce’s ass met the worktop, and Superman was hoisting him up and was between his thighs, their bulging crotches pressed together. Bruce’s hands ran into his hair and held tight and he growled into Superman’s mouth, “Fuck yes, Clark.”

Suddenly, he found himself turned around and facing the kitchenette worktop. Strong hands were reaching around his waist and set to work at his fly, unzipping his suit pants with determination. Bruce felt lightheaded, and turned on, and he didn’t have time to think before his pants were around his thighs, and then a spit wet thick finger pressed inside his ass.

He cried out in shock, and then in pleasure as that finger delved inside his ass. “Ah.”

His friend moaned throatily, “Yes…”

Bruce understood it as a question and as his ass was opened up, he mewed, “Yes.”

Bruce felt like he hadn’t caught up yet and the intensity of his friend’s fingers inside him made Bruce glance over his shoulder, and their eyes met through the lenses that Bruce still wore. He saw intense lust in his friend’s eyes and it was unfamiliar and thrilling at the same time to see it. 

Bruce’s nostrils flared, and he said gutturally, “This is what you’ve always wanted to do to me?”

Superman’s other hand caught Bruce’s jaw. His eyes were untamed, and he smirked, “Yes.” Then he took Bruce’s mouth in a hard kiss, and continued thrusting into him.

Almost overwhelmed but not quite, Bruce tore his lips away, and then made him take a step back, and then he reached out and braced his hands against the worktop, and he arched his back. He growled, “Come on then.”

And then those strong hands grasped his hips, and then Superman’s cock was filling him up. His friend moaned as Bruce’s ass yielded to him. 

He whined under his breath, “Yes.”

Clark let out an under the breath growl, and then he began thrusting, deep and fast. Bruce’s legs trembled with adrenaline as he took it and bucked back for it. He whined at the divine impact over and over, and ended up with his forehead pressed to his forearm against the worktop. He gasped, “God, Clark.” again and again.

With needful urgency, he shoved his hand down, and stroked his own cock, as his friend’s pre-come slick cock grazed his prostate again and again. 

Soon Clark’s breaths became erratic and then warm wetness filled Bruce’s asshole. Bruce gasped, “Shit.” and his hand quickened, needy and almost ready for sweet release.

Then unexpectedly, he was turned around, and then he was looking down at Superman on his knees, and then his friend groaned and took Bruce’s hard cock between his lips. Bruce’s hand gripped the worktop that was now behind him. He watched in wonder, as with his head bowed Superman sucked his cock ferociously. It was with a hunger that made Clark’s desire for him more transparent than any words.

As Bruce’s cries of pleasure got louder, Superman reached up with one hand and covered Bruce’s mouth. He whined and he covered his friend’s hand with his own, and his muffled cries vibrated against Superman’s palm.

This was no lingering pleasure, his friend’s efforts were to make him come for him and that was all. And so it was embarrassingly quick how fast he came in that preternaturally hot mouth. His come surged, and Superman swallowed it, with a groan and a hum. 

As Bruce’s body came to panting rest, his friend’s hand left his mouth. Then as Superman pulled back, his friend unbowed his head and finally looked up and met his gaze. In that brilliant aquamarine gaze, he saw a moment of devotion quickly followed by shame as he got up and half stumbled away as he put himself away. 

Confined in the small break room, Clark looked like he didn’t know what to do now his passion had been truly revealed. His friend looked as though he wanted to flee but knew he couldn’t leave with the situation upstairs to deal with first.

Bruce knew how he felt because he didn’t know either but he’d always been good at not revealing too much and he had to rely on that skill. He pulled his own pants up, and fastened them. He tucked in his shirt, and then fixed his hair. And then he turned towards the coffee cups.. He said stoically, “Now who has their coffee which way?”

With something else to focus on, Superman set about helping him make the drinks. 

When they were ready to set off again, he reached out and fixed Superman’s hair too. Superman smiled tightly in response.

~*~

A couple minutes later, they entered Clark and Lois’ office carrying the cups. They found that the police had arrived; one being Detective Jones. Who raised a brow as Superman and Bruce entered. Bruce was thankful that he didn’t have to explain the glasses that he was wearing to him. 

As Superman and Bruce offered the coffees to everyone, the police officers re-cuffed Harrison, and stood him up.

They stepped back, and then Superman and Bruce met each other’s gaze, and a moment passed between them. The first time, they’d really had eye contact since what happened in the kitchenette. Bruce saw in his friend’s gaze embarrassed affection. 

Bruce shot him teasing smirk. 

Then suddenly, Harrison began crying, “Oh my god, it’s him.” As he was escorted off the premises, he declared, “Clark Kent is Batman.”

The police officers jeered, “Yeah-yeah, sure, whatever.”

John stared at them and then shook his head, “I think we’re going to be at this a while.”

Everyone who’d been a hostage groaned, knowing they had to wait around to give their statements. Perry grumbled, “Doggone it; this paper will never get out tonight.”

Bruce smirked and said wryly, “I think we’ve missed our table.”

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Impression 3/3  
PAIRING: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,763  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce come to an understanding.

~B~

One by one everyone had entered Perry White’s office, and taken their turn giving Detective Jones their statement. Jimmy had gone home afterwards, and Ron had sent Lucy home too, knowing that he was going to be a while as his editor had given him the job of writing an article about the events tonight so he could get it in the edition that was already over the deadline. 

Perry had given his statement but was waiting around for his office to be free again. Lois had returned to her office, and so too had Superman. When he returned Superman revealed he’d suggested grief counselling for the hostage taker while he was in jail.

Bruce had replied stoically that it was a good idea.

He could tell by the way Lois was watching them, she was anxious about what she had revealed. With the tension of things being unsaid, Bruce stood up, the last to take his turn. As he moved towards the door, Superman uttered quietly, “Bruce.”

He came to a halt, and then his friend stepped closer, nervously licked his lips, and then Superman reached out and reclaimed his black framed glasses. 

He hadn’t really noticed he still wore them, and so unconsciously he smiled at the silliness of it.

Superman blinked slowly in response.

When Harrison had been escorted off the premises, the spell surrounding the Daily Planet building had collapsed. Bruce understood that Superman was going to fly off into the night.

"Goodnight, Superman." Bruce said and then continued on his way.

A minute later, he entered Perry White’s office and met the gaze of another friend. John Jones raised a brow, “Am I talking to Mr Wayne or Mr Kent?”

He harrumphed at the wry question. Then he said truthfully, “Whichever sits best with everyone else’s statement.”

“Well it might surprise you, but only one person mentioned Bruce Wayne at all.”

Bruce snorted, “Let me guess, Superman.”

“You got it in one.” the other man concurred.

“It was to protect Clark’s identity.” he mumbled.

“Except now, Harrison thinks that Clark Kent is Batman. Now why is that?”

“God.” Bruce cringed, “I didn’t know you had a sadist streak, J'onn. You already know, or you’ve got a good idea.”

Detective Jones pursed his lips, “Because there’s an obvious attraction between Superman and the man calling himself Clark Kent tonight.”

Bruce cleared his throat, “Obvious…?”

J'onn chuckled, “Obvious to me, and obvious to Lois Lane to name two.”

He closed his eyes, and commented, “But not obvious to the two people involved.”

“Are you involved?”

He opened his eyes, licked his lips, and then shrugged, “I suppose we must be.” At his friend’s amused look, Bruce griped, “Come on; let’s figure out how to make these statements make some semblance of sense.”

~*~

Finally, Bruce returned to Clark and Lois’ office. He entered to find only his friend there. Clark straightened his tie as he met his gaze through his black framed glasses. There was a moment of pause and then Bruce asked, “Are you ready to go?”

Clark took a shallow breath, “You still want to go to dinner? As you said before, we must’ve lost our table by now.”

Bruce smirked, “I guess so. We’ll have to see what you have in your refrigerator back at your place.” 

Warily, his friend smiled, “I don’t think…”

He retorted provocatively, “I’m hungry and I need a shower, Clark.”

Clark’s eyes widened, and then swept his body, and then he nodded along, “Oh, right… um of course… sorry.”

Bruce chuckled at his friend’s reaction, and then urged, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” he replied.

~*~

Bruce drove his Lamborghini through the streets of Metropolis towards midtown. With his peripheral vision, he saw his passenger watching him subtly. They were the nearest that they’d been since what had happened in the break room. He knew his friend and knew he was unsure of how to act now. They’d had sex but they hadn’t spoken about the feelings that brought them to such an intimate collision.

Finally to break the silence, Clark asked, “Haven’t you got any normal cars?”

He wasn’t expecting that question, and he laughed lightly, he pursed his lips, and replied, “Yeah I do but this is the car that Brucie uses to turn heads.” He glanced sideways, and then said sassily, “Besides its powerful, fast, and pretty and I’ve got to tell you that I love things built like that.”

Aquamarine eyes widened behind his lenses, and then he breathed deeply, “So now you’re flirting with me?”

Keeping one eye on the road, he said, “Well I was told off for flirting with other people.” Bruce tilted his head playfully and grinned, “I thought you’d like it.”

Shyly, Clark chuckled softly. 

Bruce mused, “Shyness after what you did to me earlier.”

His friend swallowed hard, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Fuck me…” he raised an eyebrow, “I was on the other end of it, I think you meant it. I’m still sticky down there even now.”

Clark gasped quietly, “Bruce.”

Bruce eyed his friend as he squirmed in his seat, then curiously he reached with one hand, and he felt Clark’s crotch, felt the hardening length. He murmured, “Yeah, you see, I think that means it.”

His friend sucked in a breath and then turned his head on the headrest, and met his gaze. He didn’t fight against Bruce’s hand as he rubbed against his growing erection. Clark’s eyes were full of lust, and his plush lips opened as he breathed steadily. Then Clark asked, “Why’re you doing this?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why you let me… why you kissed me… why…”

Suddenly, Clark’s eyes rolled back, and he moaned softly. Bruce smiled slyly and continued rubbing his thumb against the head of Clark’s cloth covered cock. He did it until Clark whined under his breath and then caught Bruce’s hand between his legs and stopped him.

Slowly Bruce pulled his hand away, and focused on the road ahead.

~*~

He pulled his car up outside Clark’s apartment building. Then they left the car and he locked it up, and then they went up to Clark’s apartment. Clark unlocked the door and let them in. Clark removed his coat, and hanged it up. Then he breathed noisily, and said, “Have a look in the fridge, I’ll only be a minute.”

Then Clark went into his bedroom. 

Bruce knew without having to hide his powers that ‘only a minute’ was only a figure of speech. He was right as within seconds his friend returned. Clark was still wearing his suit pants, and white dress shirt, but without his jacket, waistcoat and tie, so Bruce had to assume he’d gone to put his uniform away. As he arrived back, Clark frowned, “I thought you were going to look in the fridge?”

“I haven’t had time to walk over to the fridge.” he answered wryly.

At his mistake, Clark rolled his eyes at himself, and then headed for the fridge. Bruce caught his arm, and Clark stopped in his tracks and looked back at where Bruce was touching him. 

Bruce said, “The food can wait.”

His friend nodded, “I guess you want to talk.”

Clark slipped away and turned and feeling free to do so, Bruce admired his ass in suit pants as he went and sat down on the couch. With that feeling of freedom that came after everything that had happened tonight, Bruce took the few steps to stand in front of the couch. He gazed down at his friend and corrected, “The talking can come later too.”

His friend’s eyes travelled over Bruce’s body, and then he licked his lips to wet them. “The shower… yeah.”

He was fascinated by the way Clark was nervously handling this situation, not very well at all. Actually, he was finding it almost beguiling. Bruce slipped his suit jacket off, and tossed it into a chair and then he reached for his tie and loosened it, and dropped it on the floor. His friend looked alarmed and uncomfortable, “You can use my bedroom…”

Bruce nodded sagely. “I will do that... later.”

Then he unbuttoned his shirt. Clark’s words pattered away, as his gaze lingered on Bruce’s chest, and his abdomen. Bruce said, “I saw you looking at me earlier but I didn’t realise you were admiring me.”

He slipped the shirt off, and caught and held Clark’s gaze. 

Clark murmured, “What are you doing, Bruce?”

Insolently, he reached for his fly, he stepped out of his shoes, and toed off his socks, and then he dropped his suit pants and boxer shorts at the same time. Standing there nude, he couldn’t hide and didn’t want to hide the beginning of his arousal. 

He saw nervous excitement reflected in his friend’s eyes. He stepped forward, and then naked, he climbed into Clark’s fully clothed lap. His friend’s hands danced in the air so he didn’t touch Bruce’s bare skin, and he said hoarsely, “I don’t know what’s going on here.”

Bruce tilted his head and he buried his nose against Clark’s neck, and he inhaled deeply and he admitted against his best friend’s jaw, “You smell so good, you always have.”

Clark’s breathing stuttered, and he exhaled, “Always?”

He laughed softly, and kissed the skin of his jaw, “Since I first got close enough to take pleasure in your scent.” He bit at his throat teasingly, “It’s intoxicating.”

“Are you telling me that you like me like that?”

He pulled back so they were face to face, and he said coyly, “I wanted you to fuck me, didn’t that tell you something, Clark?”

Clark groaned, “Oh my god.”

Bruce rolled his eyes with affection, and then he sat back a little and slowly he began unbuttoning Clark’s shirt. His friend sighed and he finally seemed to relax, and rested back and just curiously watched Bruce spreading his shirt away from his toned torso. Bruce murmured, “That’s a good boy.” 

He admired what he saw, and he caressed his friend’s chest, and then traced a line down his sternum, down his abs, and then his fingers found his fly and released Clark’s cock from his pants.

His friend murmured, “You didn’t like Harrison calling you my boy earlier.”

“You understood that?” he asked with amusement.

“I caught the look in your eyes, I knew it pissed you off.”

Clark’s cock was thick and hardening with every second, Bruce reached for it, took it within his fist and stroked it. As it hardened to full attention for him, Bruce glanced up and met Clark’s eyes through his lenses of his glasses, and he said with teasing purpose, “That’s a very good boy.”

Clark’s nostrils flared with desire, and his chest heaved. He asked gravelly, “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to find the guy who looks like my best friend, but who took my ass like he thought he owned it.”

Before Bruce knew it, a steel fist in a velvet glove was around his throat, and Bruce smiled with exhilaration. Clark’s powerful grasp drew Bruce forward until their lips almost met and then Clark stated, “I don’t play games like this, Bruce, I didn’t think you really did.”

He swallowed against his friend’s palm, and said, “You know me better than almost anyone, I don’t play at anything.” Clark gazed at him, his chest rising and falling were the only movements. Bruce ordered, “Kiss me.”

There was a low whine from his friend and then his lips were on Bruce’s devouring and relentless. Bruce’s hands cupped his head and gave him everything back that he was giving him. When he felt like he was going crazy with the pleasure, he rose up on his knees and he grasped Clark’s cock and then carefully he sat down onto it. 

The sensation was overpowering and perversely satisfying at the same time. His body not yet totally recovered from before, and it remembered Clark’s cock, the residue of sticky come there made this time feel even naughtier. 

Panting, Clark pulled out of the kiss and even as his cock throbbed inside Bruce’s ass, his friend’s eyes became concerned as he said, “Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

Bruce shook his head, and he goaded huskily, “How are you not pounding my ass right now?”

Clark’s brow creased, and then he caressed Bruce’s naked body with strong hands, and then both hands took hold of his hips, and then there was movement, and Bruce grasped his friend’s broad shoulders and held on. 

He panted and cried out quietly as his friend’s cock thrust up inside him. It was so marvellous that his world shrunk down until there was only Clark Kent’s cock in his ass. This time it wasn’t going to be an earthshattering quickie; he was going to make sure of it.

He bowed his head and gasped and panted against Clark’s neck, and his muscled body moved instinctively grinding, rising and falling on that hard length of flesh that made it so obvious that his friend had wanted him for quite a while. The tender grip on Bruce’s hips, and the hand sliding over Bruce’s sweat soaked back told him of his friend’s care for him. 

He felt elated hearing Clark’s gasps and pants, knowing he was making his super-powered friend weak. It went on and on, evidence of the stamina that Bruce had always assumed his friend would have, when he let himself think about it that is. He used every ounce of strength and control to stay with him until the end. 

Sweat beaded down his temple, and Bruce panted, breathed deeply through his nose and enjoyed wallowing in Clark’s scent. Delirious with pleasure, he licked his friend’s neck and mouthed against Clark’s flesh, “I love the way you smell. I love the way you taste. I love… Clark, my god, yes.”

A loud gasp left Clark’s mouth, and then Bruce moaned in pleasure as he was filled with wet warmth once again. He grinded down onto it and his own cock rubbed against Clark’s stomach pleasurably. He groaned, and his mouth found Clark’s and they kissed languorously. Clark moaned into his mouth, “Come for me, Bruce I want to see you come for me.”

Bruce grinned into the kiss, and then he sat back, and he took hold of his own cock and he stroked it with long determined strokes, and at the same time continued to grind onto Clark’s length. In sparkling eyed awe, Clark watched him, and undulated under him as Bruce rode him. 

Looking beautifully spent, Clark’s hands ran up over Bruce’s naked athletic body, into Bruce’s hair and gripped it gently. “You are magnificent.” 

Bruce smiled triumphantly, “How did you hide all this so well?”

His thumb caressed Bruce’s lips; Clark said softly, “I never thought this was a possibility.” 

He kissed that thumb, and then sucked it into his mouth, and held Clark’s gaze meaningfully. Until today, he hadn’t realised it was a possibility either. He never thought he’d be grateful to a hostage taker with a gun who had wanted to kill him. But he was. 

He pulled Clark’s thumb away from his mouth, and confessed huskily, “I want you.”

Suddenly, it was too much, and then his cock was jerking, and his ass tightened around Clark’s cock and then his pleasure came spurting out, landing on his lover’s broad chest. As Bruce gasped and panted and trembled, Clark’s smile appeared and then grew until it was taking over his whole face. “That was amazing to watch.”

Sated and content, Bruce moaned tiredly and then leaned in and kissed his lover. They continued to kiss slowly until they had fully recovered. Then Bruce whispered, “Shower now, then the fridge, then we talk …”

His friend shook his head, “Shower, yes, food, yes, but we don’t need to talk.”

He raised an inquiring eyebrow, “Really, because I thought you would be the talking about feelings kind.”

Clark smiled, “I think I already know what I need to.” His hand caressed Bruce’s bare skin of his bicep, “Do you need me to talk?”

Bruce reflected that smile, “I guess actions do speak louder than words.”

His friend glanced down between them, where Bruce was still sitting naked in his lap. “Yeah I think they do.”

 

The end


End file.
